Gabe Hawke Minifics
by KaariJGib
Summary: Just bits and pieces about Gabe Hawke from Peace Begins With a Smile. In no particular order. Just fluffy and silly. Continuous WIP as these ficlets pop into my head. Each chapter stands alone.
1. Prankster

Hawke wasn't just drunk, he was wasted. And Isabela was encouraging his bad behavior. They'd managed to talk everyone out of the warm confines of Varric's private suite and into the streets, where they all wandered out to the docks leading to The Gallows.

"Hawke, I don't know if this is such a good idea," Anders said quietly as he looked around to make sure they weren't seen.

Varric chuckled nervously. "I hate to say it, but I'm in agreement Blondie."

Isabela wrapped an arm through Anders' and leaned against him with her chin propped on his shoulder. She looked up at him with eyes sparkling with humor. "Don't be such an Aveline," she said. "I just want to see a little light show."

Hawke laughed. "Just a little one?"

Isabela smirked. "Well… nothing about you is little."

Fenris threw a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. He too, had imbibed more than he should have, but he still didn't want to encourage what was about to happen. When he was sure he'd be able to speak normally, he lowered his hand. "Gabe," he said warningly. "You may be the city's Champion, but Meredith still wants you in a cell in the Gallows."

Hawke's grin widened. "It'll only be a problem if I get caught," he said with a wink. He turned his back to his friends and faced the sea. He raised his hands above his head, his staff gripped tightly in one fist. The fingers of his free hand twirled in a slight pattern and the stone in his staff began to glow dully as he pulled power from the fade. With a shout he jerked his hands down.

Bright flashes filled the air as bolt after bolt of lightning shot from the sky to strike the water surrounding the Gallows. It was so close that there was no delay between the flash and the bang of thunder. Everyone clasped their hands over their ears, and watched in fascination as each bolt hit the waves and fractured into patterns through the water.

It lasted only half a minute, and the silence afterward was almost more deafening than the thunder. When Hawke saw the Templars rush out of the island fortress, he wreathed his hand in a fireball and waved at them from across the water, catching their attention to make sure they knew it was him, and not one of the mages inside. "Come and get me!" he hollered.

"Oh shit!" Isabela cried. "Run!"

No one questioned the pirate's orders.

"Split up!" Hawke shouted cheerfully. "Meet back at the Hanged Man!"

Fenris ignored Hawke's instructions and kept himself glued to the mage's heels as they ran, taking random turns. When he wasn't sure he could run anymore, and he found himself wondering how Hawke managed to keep going, they finally came to a stop.

Hawke began to laugh hard, bent over with a hand across his stomach, leaning on his staff. Fenris glared at him as he gasped for breath. "Are you mad?" he finally asked.

"Possibly!" Hawke replied with a jaunty grin. Fenris couldn't help but laugh at the mage's unrepentant joy.

The clatter of boots caught their attention. Templars. Hawke grabbed Fenris' hand and tugged him until they were running again, their combined laughter trailed behind them.

"You'll be the death of me!" Fenris shouted as they ran.

Hawke came to a stop and jerked Fenris into his arms for a quick kiss. "At least you can say you truly lived, first." He murmured, before dragging him back into a run.

Fenris smiled at Hawke's back, because he knew the mage spoke the truth.


	2. Thunderstorm

Hawke felt the lightning immediately, and his eyes popped open. Mentally he counted the seconds. One… two… three… four… at eleven seconds the soft rumble of thunder brought a smile to his face. He could feel the storm like a vibration under his skin. It was moving towards them from the sea, and he knew that they would be spending the morning drenched.

He could still see some clear sky in the early twilight. It looked dark and bruised, and the clouds coming in were ominous, but it only made him smile wider. He sat up, carefully disentangling himself from Fenris' limbs. His lover woke anyway, and gave him a worried look.

"What is it?" Fenris mumbled, his voice containing even more sexy gravel from disuse. He rubbed his eyes and moved to sit up, but Hawke pushed him back down.

"It's nothing," Hawke said softly, so as to avoid waking Varric and Isabela. "Go back to sleep."

Fenris gave a sleepy and trusting nod, and closed his eyes. He was not as fond of mornings as Hawke was, but he sure was adorable when he was half asleep. Hawke was tempted to do something inappropriate, but thought better of it since they weren't alone in the campsite. Instead he just brushed his fingers over Fenris' face gently until the elf smiled slightly and nuzzled his hand.

Another flash and rumble caught Hawke's attention, and he crawled out of his bedroll and walked barefoot across the rocky ground, wincing now and then as a particularly sharp stone dug into his skin. He should have put on his boots. A cold breeze from the sea blew over him raising goose bumps over his bare chest and arms. _And a shirt too_, he thought to himself as he shivered. He didn't turn back though. He found Spark sitting on a rocky outcropping overlooking the Wounded Sea. The storm was stirring up the waves, and they were starting to splash up against the stones, but they weren't reaching where the mabari sat yet. Hawke scritched Spark behind an ear and sat down next to him. He was rewarded with a slobbery kiss which made him laugh softly and push the dog away. "You can go lay down if you want," he told Spark. "I'll take over the watch."

Spark whuffed softly, licked him one more time, and went back to the campsite. Hawke twisted to look over his shoulder, and he felt his heart warm as the mabari took his place in the bedroll next to Fenris. "Good boy," he whispered. He turned back to watch the storm slide towards him across the sky, making the morning darker despite the progression of the sun. Every time he saw a flash of lightning, his heartbeat would jump in response. He leaned back on his palms and watched the storm move closer, laughing softly as another cold breeze brushed the hair back from his face and caused his skin to pebble up in the chill again. Compassion stirred in the back of his mind, her joy mingling with his.

"Ugh, I'll never understand how you can be so cheerful in the morning."

Hawke tilted his head back on his shoulders and looked straight up to see Isabela standing directly behind him, looking out over the sea with a grumpy glare. She had her arms wrapped around herself and was rubbing her upper arms, because she too was barely clothed. She'd removed her corset, boots and jewelry, and her hair flowed in the wind, unfettered by the scarf she normally wore. She looked younger and more innocent wearing only the long tunic. He shifted his weight to one arm and lifted the other in an invitation for her to sit next to him. She did so, and scooted close to share body heat and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"You're up early," he replied once she was snuggled close.

"It's the storm," Isabela answered. A flash and a rumble punctuated her statement. "I'm not too fond of them."

Hawke raised a brow in surprise. "After all these years as friends, I'm just finding out now that you're afraid of storms?"

She jabbed him in the side with an elbow, making him grunt and chuckle at the malice in the glare she tossed him at the same time. "I'm not afraid of them," she replied. "They're just bad news for sailors."

"Ah, well that makes sense," Hawke said with a nod. Another flash. One… two…three… rumble. "We're going to get drenched," he said cheerfully.

"You sound way too happy about that," Isabela grumbled.

Hawke shrugged. "I love storms. They're so wild and unpredictable, and full of energy."

"Says the man who likes to fry people with lightning."

Isabela's voice was off. Like she was trying to be flippant, but there was… something else under her tone. Something that spoke of sadness and regret. Of unhappy memories. She'd lost a ship and crew to a storm, and he suspected that was what she was thinking of as she watched the angry gray storm move closer. She put on a devil may care façade, but he knew she was more than the slutty pirate wench with a taste for handsome men and good alcohol. He liked that about her. Always smiling to hide the pain. He could relate. Hawke tilted his head until his cheek was pillowed against her hair. She smelled of warm spices as usual, and he inhaled deeply through his nose.

It wasn't very often he saw this melancholy side of her, and he appreciated the moment, even if she wasn't aware it was happening. But it was time to bring her smile back.

Shifting again, Hawke lifted the hand that wasn't currently wrapped around Isabela. His spread fingers glowed slightly, and little sparks of lightning jumped from the tips. He could feel its eagerness to touch the sky. "Well, I have an affinity for it, yes," he said in response to her comment.

"Hmph."

Hawke laughed at the unimpressed sound. "Would you like to see a trick?" he asked.

Isabela shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Hawke let her go, and pushed himself to his feet. He stepped a few feet away to make sure she was safe, and then he closed his eyes and called to the electricity. He felt it pulse through the rocks up into his bare feet, up over his skin. He held his hands out, but he didn't release the power. He felt the hair all over his body, including his scalp raise up on end. When Isabela giggled, he opened his eyes to smile down at her.

"You look ridiculous," she said. "How are you doing that thing with your hair?"

"Have you ever scuffed your feet along the carpet, and then noticed that your hair lifted slightly whenever you were near another person, or something metal?" Hawke asked. Two flashes this time, the rumble of lightning following almost immediately. No rain yet, but he could see the gray sheet of water falling from the sky into the sea approaching them. Isabela nodded in answer to his question, her dark eyes lit up with amusement and curiosity. "It's basically the same thing, only stronger," he explained. He held lowered a hand to her in an invitation to join him.

"Oh no," Isabela said with a laugh and a shake of her head. "I don't want to get zapped."

"I promise it won't hurt you," Hawke said with a grin. "You'll probably love it. It's similar to that electricity thing Anders does."

Isabela stood, but didn't move closer. "Yes, but his trick doesn't look nearly as intimidating as this."

"Trust me."

Isabela let out a huffing sigh and reached out to take his hand. She jumped slightly as the electricity passed from his fingers into hers, and her eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they dropped half closed. "Oooh, that IS nice," she purred. The hair on her shoulders began to lift, until it all stood straight out from her head.

Hawke laughed. "Now you look just as ridiculous," he teased. When Isabela lifted her free hand to touch her hair, the look on her face was so comical that he couldn't hold the spell any longer. He let her go just in time to let the lightning free itself from his body and shoot up into the sky. The boom made his ears ache, but he was used to it. Isabela's hair had lain back down as soon as he stopped touching her and his own laid back down as soon as the power was released.

Isabela reached up to rub one ear ruefully, causing Hawke another fit of laughter, which she joined in on this time. The first splatters of rain began to fall down around them, and he caught her hand in his. They scrambled back to the camp quickly and snatched up their clothes, dressing quickly. Fenris and Varric had been awakened by the thunderclap from Hawke's spell, and were also putting on the rest of their clothing and armor, now that the rain had started.

"Thank you for the wake up call," Varric said sarcastically. "Next time, how about a kick in the side instead? It might hurt less than my eardrums do right now."

Isabela laughed as she pulled on her last boot. "He was showing off a new lightning trick."

Fenris, now fully clothed in his black leathers and armor came to stand next to Hawke and leaned up to give him a kiss. "Save the really good tricks for me please," he whispered gruffly.

Hawke's eyebrows rose in surprised pleasure. "Um, guys? How about we forget about that Qunari's request to find their lost swords, and head back home till the storm passes?" Fenris' lips twitched up into the shadow of a wicked smile, making Hawke feel warm enough that he forgot the cold rain starting to seep into his armor.

"Likely excuse, Hawke," Varric said with a knowing smirk.

This time the flash and rumble above them was not Hawke's work, but it was enough to make them scramble to break camp. As they hurried back to the city, Fenris slipped his hand into Hawke's. He was surprisingly open with his affection since returning from his travels with Isabela, despite the fact that he still wouldn't profess his love. For now, it was more than enough. Hawke sent a small shock through the elf's fingers, and gave him a wide grin and a wink as a promise that more would follow once they were home.


	3. The Gift

Fenris looked down at the bundle of cloth Gabe had tossed to him in consternation. A gentle shake revealed a thick black cloak lined with white fox fur. He looked up at the mage in surprise. "What is this for?" he asked as he ran his fingers through the white silky fur.

Gabe smiled his familiar crooked smile and brushed his overly long hair out of his eyes. "Fereldan winters are cold. I want you to keep warm."

The gesture certainly warmed his heart. Fenris smiled slowly. "I thought that's what you were for," he murmured.

The mage's eyebrows popped up in surprise, then dropped back down into a wicked grin. He stepped closer to the elf and wrapped him in his arms. "I think something can be arranged…"


	4. Good Cheer

From that particular peak on Sundermount the sea was visible. Gabe stood at the edge of camp with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out at the waves. The sun was going down behind the mass of stone behind him, and the water and sky were darkening. There was a storm over the water, although it was moving away instead of towards them.

His companions would be happy for that. Gabe himself didn't mind a little rainstorm at all. Or even a big one if it came down to it. Rain didn't always come with lightning, but he could always send his own sparks through the clouds if they didn't happen naturally. It was the one spell he could cast in front of strangers and no one would ever know. It was one of the reasons he loved lightning so much.

"What are you watching, Hawke?"

Gabe jumped, startled out of his reverie by the little Dalish elf. "Merrill, do me a favor and step on a twig now and then. You scare the sin out of me."

Merrill's face scrunched up in confusion. "Wouldn't that be a good thing?" she asked.

He laughed, and sent a heated look at Fenris over her head. "I like being a little sinful," he admitted.

Merrill looked over her shoulder just in time to see Fenris blush and look away from Gabe's warm stare. "You're being dirty right now, aren't you?" she asked as she turned back and smiled up at him.

He laughed again. "You're getting better, Merrill. You didn't miss that one at all."

"Yes, well Isabela is a bad influence on me."

Gabe wrapped an arm around Merrill's shoulder in a companionable hug. "A bad influence? No, I don't think so."

Merrill giggled. "Keeper Marethari would be so appalled at some of the things I've learned." Her smile faded, and her ears drooped sadly. "It seems I'm always disappointing her."

"Hey, none of that," Gabe said, squeezing her closer. When she smiled at him again, it was forced. He hated to see Merrill sad. She was made for light and laughter, and it was almost painful to see her this way. He searched for a way to cheer her up. "Look," he said and he held his out palm up. "Anders taught me a new trick."

He concentrated, and electricity sprung from his fingertips. Gently he pushed it into shape until it shaped itself into the image of a cat. It cleaned it's paw, and then walked up his arm to sit on his shoulder.

Merrill gasped into her hands, her eyes wide with delight. "Oh Hawke, that's lovely! Can I pet it?"

"Um, well… sure," Gabe said, suppressing the uncertainty in his voice. The lightning never hurt him, but he usually used it as a weapon. He frowned as he pressed his power into the spell, telling the electricity to _stay_.

Merrill reached out with one delicate hand and scratched the elemental cat between the ears. Her delighted giggle was worth the burn Gabe felt at channeling more power than he was used to. Pushing his boundaries was not a bad thing. His father had taught him that, and the lesson made him powerful. It was power he used to protect this motley crew of friends that he now considered family. But…

"Merrill, I can only hold it so long," he grunted.

"Oh! Sorry," she said sheepishly as she pulled her hand away. But her smile stayed in place, even as Gabe let go of the spell. The electricity flashed harmlessly through them as it shot towards the freedom of the ground, making them both giggle.

"Thank you, Hawke."

"Anything to make you smile, Merrill."


	5. Winter Storm

Fenris didn't know what had awoken him. The strong arm around his waist and the steady breathing at his neck told him Hawke was still fast asleep. Spark was also curled in a tight ball near their feet, snorting softly at whatever he was chasing in his dreams.

He lay still and listened, trying to determine what was bothering him. Well, besides the cold. That was something he wasn't sure he would ever get used to, but at least he had Hawke to keep him warm. His sensitive ears strained… what was wrong? Had it been a noise?

No. It was the silence. The only thing he could hear was his own breathing and that of his lover and the mabari at their feet.

Gently, so as not to wake Hawke, Fenris disentangled himself from limbs and blankets. He crawled toward the tent's opening and pushed back a flap. His eyes widened in surprise.

The world outside their tent was bright white, even though it was probably just after midnight. The ground and the surrounding trees were covered in thick piles of snow, and more of it fell in fat fluffy flakes. He'd heard of snow, but had never seen it, and he held his hand out in awe to let some of the flakes fall into his palm. They melted instantly on the warmth of his skin.

"It's pretty now, but you'll hate it in the morning. Trust me," Hawke mumbled from behind him.

Fenris looked over his shoulder to see Hawke had propped his head up on his hand and was smiling at him fondly. He frowned at the mage, and turned back to look at the scene before him. "It reminds me of the Fade," he said. "It's so silent, and bright. It is very surreal."

"It's definitely real," Hawke said with a chuckle. "Although it can be just as dangerous." He crawled out of the make shift bed and came to sit cross-legged next to Fenris, pulling one of the blankets with him to wrap around them both. His arm wrapped around Fenris' slender waist and pulled the elf into his lap, then settled his chin on his shoulder. "I missed nights like these sometimes," he murmured against Fenris' ear.

"It's very beautiful," Fenris acknowledged.

They sat that way, watching the snow fall, for quite some time. When they became too cold, they returned to their pallet and in the silence of the winter storm, worked up a sweat to keep themselves warm for the rest of the night.


	6. Wildfire

It's dangerous to be a mage. That is a difficult lesson for a boy to learn.

A bad dream, or a fight with your obnoxious little brother, or even a really good kiss from the soldier passing through can be the trigger to your loss of control. It takes so much concentration to keep those walls up at all times. Especially when you can feel the electricity flowing through everything.

It's in the ground at your feet, and in the skin of those who can't pick up their feet when they walk, and of course the sky, regardless of weather. And it's inside of you. Electricity practically flows from the Fade, or at least that's what it felt like for Gabe. Bethany always said it felt like fire and ice, but then that's to be expected from a _girl._

His whole existence boiled down to control. Holding up a wall against the Fade and the demons whispering in it's fathomless depths. One slip up could cause something as small as a burn, or something as dangerous as a wildfire.

It's a wall he could have easily added to until he was enclosed in it. No doors, no windows, and all alone. But unlike most young mages, he had a family. Parents who loved him. Siblings to laugh and play with, and fight with too, because let's face it, kids will be kids. They were there for him when he felt too weak to hold up the wall by himself.

Instead it was like the load bearing wall in a house with vaulted ceilings, and windows flung open to the sunshine and the breeze. It was essential to his existence, but he left himself open to friendship and love.

When he looked into mossy green eyes partially hidden by a shock of white hair for the first time, he felt his foundations tremble slightly. His concentration wavered like it hadn't since he was an adolescent learning to deal with a growing body along with growing power. The wall held, but something must have leaked through a crack because he felt like electricity was buzzing through him, at least more so than usual.

He felt like he'd been struck by a bolt of his own lightning. And even though he didn't believe in love at first site, he certainly knew his heart would never beat the same cadence again. It caught flame, and the wildfire burned through him.

Fenris did not want his friendship, much less his love. But Gabe could see that he was tired. From running, from hurting. He needed a place to rest. A wall to lean on. A roof to shelter him and windows opened to the sunshine and wind.

Gabe would show Fenris that although it was dangerous to love a mage, it didn't have to be a difficult lesson to learn.


	7. Forgiven

_Author's Note: This may end up as part of the sequel I have planned for Peace Begins With a Smile._

Hawke stood leaning against the railing of Isabela's ship. They were a few weeks out from Kirkwall, but he still felt the need to watch the horizon in the direction of the city they had left behind. So far there was no sign of pursuit, but that did not help him relax at night. When he couldn't sleep, he came up on deck and watched the waves reflect the starlight.

He looked up at the sky now, and saw only blackness. It was overcast, although the sailors knew they weren't in danger of a bad storm. Hawke had learned a thing or two about weather control. It took a lot of energy to push the worst of the squall away, and he really should be sleeping to regain his strength.

"Insomnia is bad for a working mage."

Hawke turned slightly to see Anders standing nearby. The blonde mage had been avoiding him since they'd left Kirkwall. Of course, he was having an easy time of it because Hawke was also avoiding Anders. It was hard for two people to bump into each other even in the small space of a ship if they were actively trying not to. Apparently, that was coming to an end now that the healer had sought him out.

"You probably know that from experience?" Hawke asked. He was proud of himself for the calm tone. Anders was one of his best friends, but Hawke still felt betrayed and angry. Worst of all though, he felt uncertain if they could ever go back to the easy relationship they had before.

Well, not as easy as Hawke would have liked. He knew how Anders felt about him.

"Oh yes," Anders answered with a tentative smile. "Insomnia is something I'm very familiar with." His smile faltered, and he looked uncertain. "Can we talk?" he asked.

When Hawke nodded Anders closed the distance between them and came to stand next to him at the rail. "What do you want to talk about?" Hawke asked.

Anders gave him a look that was half amusement, half surprise. "You seriously don't know?"

Hawke shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Well maybe I was hoping you wanted to talk about fish."

"Fish?" Anders asked. He lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well Fenris hates fish," Hawke joked lamely. "He won't talk to me about them. And we're in the middle of the sea… it's a good time for it."

Anders rolled his eyes. "And people tell me that the things I say are inane. You've got me beat, my friend."

Hawke latched onto the last word. "Am I?" he asked. "Still your friend, I mean."

The blonde mage turned to face him fully, his expression incredulous. "Are you serious?" he demanded. "I'm the one who blew up a building and started a war behind your back! I should be asking that of you!"

Hawke reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, we'll get to that," he said softly. Anders winced, and he frowned. He really didn't want the conversation to go in that direction yet. "I just want to know, Anders. Why did you feel the need to go behind my back? Had I done something to make you distrust me?"

Anders' mouth sagged open in shock, and he blinked twice before he answered. "No. No, Hawke! I was trying to protect you… and Justice… well sometimes I wasn't always aware of what was going on."

Hawke let out the breath he'd been holding. "I was afraid that maybe I'd broken something in our friendship… maybe flaunted my relationship with Fenris, or something…"

Anders grabbed Hawke by the shoulders. "Stop it. You love him, and that's okay. I can't begrudge you that happiness." When Hawke didn't answer right away, Anders gave him a little shake. "Alright?"

"Ok," Hawke answered softly.

"Besides," Anders continued. He let Hawke go and smiled ruefully. "The grouch has grown on me a bit. I kind of sort of maybe a little like having him around, too." His smile turned to a glare. "Don't you dare tell him that."

Hawke laughed. "My lips are sealed."

"I can't believe I'm the one reassuring you of our friendship, and not the other way around," Anders said softly. "You should despise me."

Hawke turned to look out over the sea. It was pitch black except for the pale glow of the lantern light. But in the darkness he could see images of his life in Kirkwall. The City of Chains, they called it. The name was appropriate. The whole populace was enslaved by someone or something. Nobles were slaves to their traditions. The poor were slaves to the masters who did not pay them enough to survive. The mages and Templars were slaves to the Chantry. The ornate building had stood tall over the entire city, and it's people had lived in it's shadow, never realizing how much lighter it was outside the walls of their prison.

"You started a war," he said softly. "But if you didn't do it, someone else might have. That city has been on the edge for far longer than our time there." He turned and looked at Anders. "The stalemate needed to be broken."

"But all those lives… I'm a murderer," Anders protested.

Hawke gave a snort. "So am I. I've killed many people, for what I considered a good cause. I took lives of people who may have had families that they were trying to provide for. I killed Templars who truly believed in their cause." He paused, and stared at Anders intently. "Any action can be justified," he said. There was a flicker of blue in the depths of Anders' eyes, and Hawke knew the spirit had gotten his message.

Anders nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Hawke," he murmured. "For understanding. And for being my friend."

Hawke threw an arm around the other mage's shoulder and pulled him close to his side. "Ah well. Gotta keep my healer happy. I'm going to run out of energy from all this weather control and insomnia. Who's going to heal me when Isabela decides to stab me for having sex in her bed with someone other than her?"

Anders' laugh was cut off by a flash of lightning, and a gentle rumble of thunder. He gave Hawke a suspicious look. "Was that you?"

Hawke's grin widened. "No, that was natural. Fenris wore me out, so I can't keep the storm too far away."

"Ugh, I did not need to know that," Anders complained. His lips were turned up in a small smile of amusement though, and Hawke knew that they were going to be okay.


	8. Beautiful View

It was good to see Fenris pause to enjoy a beautiful view. Since Hawke had met the elf, it seemed that he mostly kept his eyes on the shadows and the faces of strangers in the streets of Kirkwall. Ever vigilante for slavers or bounty hunters. Fenris was constantly tense, sometimes even twitchy, always broody.

But at the moment Fenris was mostly relaxed, shoulders no longer hunched. It made him look taller, and somehow younger. Hawke made a mental note to get Fenris out of the city more often if this was how he reacted to it. Even if those mossy green eyes glared bastard swords at anyone who compared his markings to those of the Dalish, Hawke suspected that Fenris would be happier _not_ being a city elf.

Isabela sidled up to Hawke and jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow, making him jump. "You're staring," she said with a smirk.

Hawke glanced down at her and winked. He turned his attention back to the elf. Fenris hated what Hawke was, even if he didn't hate Hawke. That animosity meant that all he could ever do was watch from a distance, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to walk over and join Fenris. Bump shoulders, brush his knuckles a thigh, enjoy the scenery together.

"Just enjoying the view," he said quietly. "It's rather beautiful out here away from the city."


	9. Flip Flop

_Author's Note: This is sort of a chapter 3.5 for Peace Begins With A Smile. _

Hawke stared at the cards in his hand blankly. Isabela and Varric had been bleeding him dry for the last hour as he tried to concentrate on the game instead of reliving memories of the night before. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

His smile. Maker, _his laugh. _The fact that he was even slightly amused by the horrible jokes Hawke had been telling him.

Nothing had really even happened. They had walked together through Hightown, talking about nothing in particular. Well, Hawke had done most of the talking anyway. Fenris just listened, which was a shame because Hawke loved to hear his voice. But at least he had laughed occasionally, which had done very interesting things to Hawke's insides.

And not just below the belt. His heart had done a funny little flip-flop every time he heard a rusty chuckle.

"Hawke, you want to pay a little more attention there before Isabela just cuts the strings of your coin purse to save time?" Varric asked in amusement.

Hawke blinked and looked over at the dwarf who was smirking at him as if he knew everything that was going through his head. He might. There was no way Hawke's infatuation with a certain grouchy elf could be missed, and Varric had enough imagination to make things up that weren't spoken out loud. "Sorry," he mumbled as he looked back down at his cards. He only barely managed not to frown. Nothing.

With a sigh, he decided to fold. He wasn't up to bluffing his way through the game tonight.

"What's wrong, Hawke?" Isabela teased as she laid down her cards and scooped up the pile of coppers she'd won. "You've been so… broody… today."

He gave her a sharp look, and she gave him her version of an innocent smile. _Someone should really tell her that she can't pull that look off_, he thought to himself. "Nothing," he said. It came out a little more defensively than he'd intended, and her raised eyebrow told him that he was not fooling anyone. "I'm just a little antsy tonight," he mumbled as he lifted his tankard and took a sip of ale to hide his blush.

He had no idea why he was blushing. It's not like Isabela didn't already know that he wanted Fenris. She'd gotten him drunk enough to share some of his fantasies with her one night, and then relieved his frustration afterwards. But talking to her about sex somehow seemed a lot different than talking to her about what he felt for Fenris.

Whatever it was he felt.

Attraction, yes. Lust, check. Lov-

He stopped himself right there. It was just a little infatuation over someone he found fascinating. Maker, they'd only been alone together for the first time last night, and it was just a walk home in the dark.

Fenris's markings had shimmered in the light of the full moon.

_Stop it_, Hawke thought to himself.

"Need me to take care of it for you?" Isabela asked. Her full lips quirked up in a sexy little smile and she braced her forearms on the table as she leaned forward, giving him an impressive view of her charms.

He was tempted to take her up on the offer. He certainly had an itch that needed scratching, and he hadn't taken care of it himself because by the time he'd gotten home after leaving Fenris on the doorstep of his borrowed mansion, Carver was already home. His little brother had been sound asleep, and normally Hawke would have taken advantage of that tiny bit of privacy, but somehow it just didn't feel right.

Taking comfort in Isabela's arms didn't feel right either. Not anymore.

He shook his head, and grinned to soften the rejection. "Thank you, Bela," he said brightly. "I appreciate the offer, but you're not the man for the job."

"What job?"

Hawke jumped at the sound of the voice that had started haunting his dreams. He turned to see Fenris standing in the entrance of Varric's suite. His brow was furrowed with his typical frown, but there was a glint of curiosity in his mossy green eyes.

"Broody!" Varric called gleefully. "Come in and play a round with us!"

Fenris nodded stiffly and reached up to lift the sword out of the strap over his shoulder. "You need assistance with a job?" he asked as he disarmed himself.

Isabela's grin turned wicked. "He sure does," she said. "He could use a_handj-"_

Hawke kicked her under the table to cut her off, and her eyes sparkled merrily. "It's nothing," he said quickly. He scrambled for a story to cover up what they'd really been talking about. "Just a trip to the Black Emporium… I uh… figured I shouldn't go alone."

"Oh yes," Isabela purred. "Darktown is too dangerous for a big bad mage like yourself. You mustn't go alone."

Fenris stood still for a moment as he frowned in confusion first at Isabela, then at Hawke. "You wish for an escort through Darktown?" he asked with a slight tone of disbelief.

Hawke opened his mouth to answer, but Isabela beat him to it. "Of course he does. What if he gets attacked by Carta, and dragged off into slavery?" she asked with false innocence.

Fenris had looked at her when she spoke, but now he turned his attention back to Hawke. He lifted one dark brow. "I don't think it should be a problem for Hawke," he said. "The spontaneous target practice might be good for him."

Hawke blinked in surprise. Had Fenris just teased him?

One corner of Fenris' mouth lifted into a smile as he walked across the room to sit down next to Isabela, across from Hawke. "I will join you though," he said. "If you wish."

Hawke stared at Fenris in silence for a long moment before Isabela kicked him under the table to snap him out of it. He grinned widely at the elf. "Thank you," he said. "I'd like that."

Fenris' smile widened slightly as he nodded his agreement, and Hawke's heart did that little flip-flop again.


	10. Quiet Afternoon

Anders sipped his tea while he watched Fenris reaching for a book from the top shelf. He was obviously too short to reach it, but too stubborn to ask for help.

"I wonder if he'll ever realize that he's short," Gabe murmured. He was stretched out on the lounge, using Anders' lap as a pillow. He had a book propped open on his stomach, but had turned his head to watch Fenris.

Anders chuckled. "He's not short for an elf. When will you ever realize that you're just a tall beast of man?"

"You're taller."

Anders hummed his agreement as he took another sip of tea. "Do you think one of us should go over and help him before he pulls the shelf down on himself?"

"You know he'll just growl at us," Gabe answered. He watched quietly for half a breath before he spoke again. "Besides, his shirt is riding up a bit, and I'm enjoying the view."

"I can hear you both," Fenris growled. He gave up on trying to reach the book and turned to glare at them. "Well?"

Gabe chuckled and swung himself off the lounge and into a standing position in one graceful move. He sauntered over to the bookshelf, and reached up to grab the book Fenris had been after. He smirked down at Fenris as he held it out to the irritated elf.

When Fenris reached for the book, Gabe pulled it just out of reach and leaned down slightly. Fenris glared at him for a moment, but sighed and leaned up to peck Gabe on the lips. That must have been just what Gabe wanted because he handed over the book and sauntered back to the lounge to lay back down, shifting slightly until he was comfortable again.

Glare still in place, Fenris followed. He curled his legs under himself and sat on the floor at Anders' knee. He flipped the book open, and began to read.

Anders reached out with his free hand and ran his fingers back through Fenris' hair and down over his neck. The elf's shoulders relaxed, and he leaned into Anders' touch.

"Thank you," Fenris grumbled after a moment.

"Anytime, love," Gabe murmured as he continued to read.

Anders rolled his eyes at both of them, and continued to sip his tea. Content to just relax in their company.

**Author's Note: **_Someday I'm going to write a story that is a sequel to both Peace Begins With a Smile and Descent and I'm going to get my Hawke/Anders/Fenris OT3 down on paper. This little scene is a possible "happily ever after" if I ever get around to finishing Descent and writing my sequel._


	11. Hand Kisses

"Fasta vass!"

Gabe was filling a pot with ingredients for stew when he heard Fenris. His head jerked up at the hissed curse. Across camp near a partially erected tent, Fenris cupped one of his hands with the other against his chest. His eyes were clenched shut and his teeth bared in a grimace. "Fenris? What's wrong?" Gabe asked worriedly as he got up from the log he was sitting on to approach the elf.

He took a slow deep breath, and looked down at his hand. A few more foreign curses spilled from his lips instead of an answer, but he didn't resist when Gabe took his hand. Gabe tilted it toward the dying light of the sun. Right in the center of the lyrium lined palm was a tiny pumping stinger. His eyes flicked up to see Fenris glaring down at his hand. "Catching bees, were you?" he asked teasingly? "There are much easier ways to get honey."

"I put my hand in a patch of clover when I moved to stand," Fenris growled.

Gabe grimaced in sympathy, and turned his attention back to the stinger. Very gently he prodded at it with his thumbnail until it came loose. The skin of Fenris' palm was already starting to turn red and swell, more than Gabe would have expected. "Are you allergic to bees?" he asked, flicking the stinger off his thumbnail.

"I… I do not remember," Fenris admitted.

Gabe prodded at the tender skin, and Fenris let out a hiss. "You probably are, if it's as painful as it seems," he said. Fenris had confessed to him once that activating his markings felt like having his skin sliced open. For him to show any reaction at all to a little bee sting, it must be pretty bad. The swelling was spreading visibly, and Gabe could see lines of red already reaching Fenris' wrist.

He cursed and whispered a spell he'd learned from Anders, letting his eyes fall half closed as he concentrated on directing the healing energy. Warm golden light engulfed Fenris' hand, which looked oddly delicate cupped between Gabe's larger hands.

When he felt that the bee's poison was gone, and the flesh of Fenris' palm was healed, Gabe let go of the power coiling inside him and opened his eyes fully to survey his workmanship. The skin was the color of honey, and the swelling was gone.

"Thank you," Fenris murmured.

Gabe smiled and brought Fenris' hand up to his mouth. He kissed the palm where the stinger had been, and smiled as he felt the lyrium lines tingle against his lips. "You're welcome," he answered simply. "But if you really want to thank me, we're going to need to camp further away from Varric and Isabela. I wouldn't want to disturb their sleep."

"Disturb their sleep?" Fenris echoed suspiciously.

"With your cries of passion," Gabe answered with a smirk.

Fenris rolled his eyes and pulled his hand free, only to smack Gabe in the chest with it. Gabe laughed and turned back to preparing dinner.


End file.
